


Love The One You Are With

by RussianWitch



Series: Kinktober2018 [13]
Category: Man of Steel (2013)
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Anal Sex, Dubious Morality, Emotional Manipulation, Extremely Dubious Consent, Forced Pregnancy, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Kinktober 2018, M/M, Objectification, Pregnant Sex, Rough Sex, Tentacles, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-15
Updated: 2018-10-15
Packaged: 2019-08-02 11:33:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16304390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Day 14Clark didn't win at the end of Man of Steel.





	Love The One You Are With

**Author's Note:**

> not checked by human

"Dru—please!" Clark gasps having learned what works best along with raising his ass in a wordless offer. It doesn't look particularly attractive, but he does the best he can, his massive belly making lowering his shoulders and presenting correctly impossible.

Having to beg raises his arousal a notch and his dick twitch against the lower curve of his distended abdomen.

Behind him, the general curses in annoyance snapping something at the ship in Kryponian, and Clark knows he's won.  
Something leaks from his ass, dribbles down his taints and balls, something he doesn't want to think about, that he ignores most of the time but comes in handy when his skin is burning and despite his bulging abdomen feels so *empty*.

"I should teach you patience!" The general grumbles, kneeling behind Clark and pushing his knees even wider, so his abdomen comes to rest on the mattress.

He curls over Clark's back, his hands rubbing over the sides of Clark's abdomen following the stretchmarks that decorate his skin now marking him with strange, unfamiliar patterns.

The general's hand connects sharply with Clark's ass, claws at the flesh of it and pulls it to the side.

"Undisciplined—your sire would be proud!"

Straining, Clark manages to bury his face in the pillows that litter the nest-like bed, ignoring the words even as he's grateful Zod doesn't say 'father.'

His human parents are never mentioned, as far as Zod is concerned Clark might as well have been raised by wolves.

Thick fingers circle his anus, tease it into relaxing and releasing even more of the slick substance Clark is trying so hard to ignore.

"I should have wired you into the Genesis chamber as Ul advised." The general growls pushing into Clark, sheathing himself to the hilt in a single, steady thrust.

Clark shudders at the reminder, tears springing to his eyes. The tears are only partly from relief as the ache in his body subsides, the sight of the half-destroyed chamber is still far too vivid in his mind even months later.

Zod is too fond of bringing it up as a not quite threat, and far too fond of fucking Clark in the doorway to the damn chamber just out of reach of the tentacles that are part of the ruined machinery.

If Clark is close enough, whatever intelligence the machine has been granted recognizes him, recognizes the information his biological parents decided to hide in his very DNA and tries to access it.

The general has lovingly explained that he could have given Clark to the machine. He would have been dragged into the chamber, the glass restored locking him in. The tentacles would wrap around his limbs keeping him under control until his muscles atrophied, tentacles would have forced his mouth open and filled his throat pushing air into his lungs and nutrients into his stomach, they would have plugged his ass and his dick taking over his body and preparing it for incubation.  
Zod fucks him hard enough to bruise, leaving hand shaped bruises on Clark's hips and crimson crescents on his sides and back. He's burning hot inside Clark, thick enough to stretch and strain him every time they fuck, merciless as always.

The general's fat balls slam into Clark's with every thrust, full and heavy, and only getting heavier every time they fuck, ready to fill him up again as soon as...

He hasn't bothered to ask how—maybe they will cut him open, maybe something else will happen. Maybe they will miscalculate, and he'll be free, but in all likelihood, he's going to be bred again, using either Zod's genetic material or that of one of his men or possibly women, Clark doesn't really know, now that they've managed to restore some functions on the scout ship, anything is possible.

They did something to him, Clark is sure, because whatever is happening isn't natural—but then what does he know? With a whole populated galaxy out there natural might be a broad term.

Getting closer, Zod curls along Clark's back, nuzzling at the back of Clark's sweaty neck licking the skin in broad strokes as he shoves himself in deep, rubbing Clark's bulging belly with reverence.

The general's knot flares and Clark comes screaming and crying as Zod sinks his teeth into the back of Clark's neck marking his property once again.


End file.
